I Mistake Somebody's Pet for a Hellhound
by caughtinthefire
Summary: Percy's day starts off normally. Well, as normally as you can get when evasive hellhounds distract you from a math tutoring in Starbucks. Percy Jackson/Medoran Chronicles, set after Aven's defeat. Crossover oneshot


**Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognise (provided you've read both Percy Jackson and Medoran Chronicles) is mine. Which is basically Rashid and the whole thing with Soraya's mirage.**

 **Sooo I actually have another PJO/TMC crossover in my arsenal, but I've yet to get it edited and the like. This hasn't been either, but it's in a different AU to my other one. Basically, this is following Alex's ordeal with Aven and the war, and she's run off to Freya with Soraya to try and pull herself together. Oh, and this is in Percy's POV btw.**

 **;;**

Just when I was beginning to think that I'd finally get a break from whatever the gods threw at me, the Fates proved me wrong.

It was late April. Winter had finally parted ways with New York, to be occupied with an unusually warm spring. Abiding by my girlfriend's orders — sorry, _request_ — to bunker down and study hard so we could attend college in New Rome together, I found myself in a Starbucks, weighted down with a backpack full of heavy revision binders. I was supposed to be meeting my math tutor here (naturally, I sucked at math).

My tutor was obviously a bit of a brainiac. If he wasn't Pakistani and I didn't know for a fact he had intact mortal parentage, then I would have suspected him to be a son of Athena who had yet to find his way to camp. But Rashid was pretty cool for a nerd. He ran some kind of robotics channel on YouTube that was received a fair bit of online attention, and was on the varsity basketball team at Goode.

Rashid was yet to arrive ( _yes_ , I was certain this was the correct Starbucks. Rashid had been pretty clear in his directions) so I ordered for the pair of us and settled down at one of the bar stools. Outside, New York was carrying out its typical pandemonium. The streets were crawling with people. Traffic chugged on by merrily when it wasn't being held up. The sounds of people, technology, music and honking cars formed the chaotic cacophony I'd listened to all my life. I ran my eyes over my city and sighed to myself. Mortals really had no idea just how lucky they were.

My gaze fell idly on the swarms of people. Businessmen in suits and carrying shiny briefcases, holding expensive cell phones to their ears and talking a mile a minute. Young university students with laptop bags slung over their shoulders. Clusters of high school kids, celebrating the brief but sweet reprieve of a Saturday. A few homeless people shuffling amongst the masses. I even spotted a gay couple holding hands, which instantly reminded me of Nico and Will. And then I glimpsed something different, and something very out of place.

I couldn't be entirely sure. I'd only seen it for a fleeting moment: huge, hulking, furry, black. In my world, that usually means one thing: _hellhound_. But hellhounds have a distaste for big crowds of exclusively mortals, unless it had caught the scent of some demigod and was hunting it.

Instinctively, I scrambled out of the seat and rushed towards the double doors. I fished Riptide out of my pocket, preparing to uncap my sword at any given moment. Rashid was just coming in. His brow furrowed as he took in the fact I was all but barrelling out of here. 'Percy? Where are you going?'

I skidded to a halt, shifting my weight from foot to foot. If I couldn't shake Rashid quickly, then I might lose the hellhound, and somebody could end up seriously hurt. Luckily, I had a lot of practise when it came to this sort of thing. 'Hey. Just, uh, you know, using the restroom.'

Rashid frowned, his eyes becoming disbelieving. 'There is a restroom here, Percy.'

'It's occupied. And, um, my bowels don't agree well with pre-exam math revision.'

'Your _bowels_?!' repeated Rashid. 'That's not even medically possible —'

I didn't have time to take in his stupefied expression or listen to what else he had to say: I was already flying out of Starbucks in hot pursuit of the hellhound. Only problem was; it was mid Saturday, and there were tons of people. _Tons_. The straps of my backpack dug painfully into my shoulder blades as I nudged past pedestrians, weaved through traffic and dodged any other obstacles. The whole time, I cursed unreasonably heavy study binders to Hades.

Then I finally spotted the hellhound, having trotted onto the manicured lawns of Central Park. _Got you_ , I thought victoriously as I uncapped Riptide, the pen sheathing out into my trusty bronze sword. I couldn't help but notice that this hellhound was unlike any other that I'd ever sent to Tartarus; its face was a little differently structured, like a wolf's. There was a white sock on one of its paws. And most strangely enough, it seemed to emit spirals of shadowy black smoke and little crackles of lightning.

Maybe it was some really rare species of hellhound. Or maybe Hades was secretly modifying the hellhound genetics, and this was an escapee. The latter was definitely not assuring in the slightest.

I angled Riptide and moved slowly towards it. I tried to keep my footfalls as noiseless as I could, so it wouldn't detect my approach. The hellhound didn't look like some of the vicious savages I'd encountering, mostly because it was floundering around in a bed of flowers, basking happily in the sunshine. I was beginning to think Hades had just let this one loose into the world; it behaved more like it would smother somebody with doggy kisses rather than try and devour them.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

I jumped about a foot into the air, and wheeled around to face the voice's owner. A girl stood on a nearby sidewalk, with narrowed eyes and arms folded defiantly over her chest. She was around my age, and I was fairly sure she was mortal. Before I could answer, the girl continued, 'Is that something you normally do? Sneak up on other people's dogs with some stupid rusty old sword in your hand?'

I gaped at her. _She could see Riptide_. Not only that, but she was acting like … well, like I was about to attack her beloved pet. I took in her profile. She was pretty, I guess (though not as beautiful as Annabeth was), with shiny brown hair and tanned skin. She was lean and athletic-looking, just above average female height, yet there was something alert about her that reminded me of a highly trained demigod. She wore dark jeans, black Converse, and a faded old khaki army jacket over a white tee.

'That's not an ordinary dog,' I deadpanned, still staring at the hellhound in stunned disbelief.

'So your first reaction is to try and _kill_ her?' The girl replied, gesturing to Riptide with narrowed eyes. The hellhound was now gaining some worrying distance, bounding curiously towards some waterbirds splashing around in a nearby pond. 'I'm surprised you can even see past her mirage. I mean, anyone who knows what she actually is can, but I've never seen you in my life.'

I blinked uncertainly. 'Whoa, whoa, whoa. You mean, she has some kind of … cloaking?'

'I guess you can call it that.' The girl had an accent I couldn't entirely place. It didn't sound distinctly exotic, like Zoë's or Rashid's. It sounded pretty Western, but it definitely wasn't American, or Canadian, or Australian, or any kind of European. Weird. 'Can you please put that sword of yours away? She's not a massive fan of strange guys wielding swords.'

I realised the girl was referring to the hellhound, and hesitantly capped Riptide. The girl watched on indifferently until Riptide shrunk back into a ballpoint pen, and her expression became surprised, and a little awed.

'How can you see my sword?'

The girl arched an eyebrow at me. 'How can you see my dog in her true form?'

I was seriously perplexed. She surely had to be a clear-sighted mortal, like Rachel was. Also, what _exactly_ was that not-a-hellhound of hers, and what was she talking about with the mirage and all? Was the Mist playing some huge practical joke on me today?

Mentally sending a prayer to any god that would listen, I deliberated what I'd ask the girl. She certainly seemed guarded. 'If that's not a dog or a hellhound —'

'A _what_?'

'— what I mistook it for. Hellhounds are monsters, and I kill monsters, so …'

The girl tipped back her chin briefly and rolled her eyes before closing them for a long moment. 'Of course you do.' she muttered darkly. 'Continue.'

'Well, what exactly is it?'

' _She_.' corrected the girl, looking annoyed. I suddenly had the impression she was used to dealing with teenage guys, especially clueless ones like myself. She stared critically at me for a long moment before saying, 'I don't suppose you would know what a Shadow Wolf is, would you?'

'Er,' I hesitated. 'No.'

'Her kind can teleport themselves through shadows.' _"Shadow Wolf", my ass. That's clearly a hellhound_ , I thought to myself but didn't say anything. 'But she's, well, a hybrid. Unlike the rest of her kind, she also can teleport in daylight as well. Get what I'm saying?'

I eyed the wolf, now intently sniffing an iron-wrought statue that I suspected was secretly one of New York's automatons. 'Prove it,' I challenged.

The girl smiled obligingly. She pursed her lips and released a sharp, carrying whistle. The wolf's head jerked up immediately at her owner's summons and bounded forwards. Then she was gone — completely vanished, leaving some kind of small explosion of shadows and lightning in her wake. Seconds later, there was a mirroring explosion by the girl's side, depositing the wolf neatly onto the grass.

My jaw fell open, and closed again like a clueless goldfish. Sure, I'd seen both Nico and Mrs O'Leary shadow-travelling countless times, but this was different. 'What kind of a pet shop did you find _her_ in?' I asked weakly.

Having heard my voice, the wolf's amber-eyed gaze snapped to me and narrowed. She began to growl, slowly moving forward in front of her owner, adopting a rather protective position. Seeing my hand reaching back for Riptide again, the girl narrowed her eyes at me and muttered to her wolf, 'Drop it, girl. I've already told you that nobody here is a threat.'

'I take offence to that,' I said. Hey, I'm a son of Poseidon. I like to think I could be considered intimidating.

'Duly noted,' the girl replied seamlessly. 'Alright, buster, I've given you my share of information. What's your story?'

'You don't want to know. It's … complicated.'

The girl laughed, but there was no mirth in it. 'Trust me. I've experienced some seriously insane things in the last few months. I'm pretty sure I can handle whatever it is that you think will blow my mind.'

I hesitated, looking her over. 'I don't think I want to go around telling somebody things about myself, when I don't even know their name.'

'Are you asking me to introduce myself?' Her mouth quirked up at one corner.

'Well, yes,' I said, still eyeing her wolf, rather nervously. What if this girl was secretly a monster in disguise, and any minute she would try to claw my face off?

'I'm Alex.' She didn't offer a surname, and "Alex" was probably short for something. She gestured to the wolf. 'This is Soraya.'

I took her lead. 'Percy.' I wouldn't be stating my surname unless she told me hers. I held up Riptide. 'This is Riptide.'

Alex stared at the pen dubiously. 'You name your pens?'

'It turns into a sword, remember?'

'Oh, I do. After all, you tried to kill my own wolf with that thing.' Alex held my gaze warily. One of her hands began to absently fondle one of Soraya's ears, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was armed. Some kind of a hand gun? A hidden dagger? 'Are you finally going to explain to me all the fuss about one stupid sword?'

I paused, deliberating what to say. 'Do you know what a demigod is?'

To my surprise, Alex nodded. 'Greek myths, right?'

I stared at her suspiciously. 'How do you —'

'My parents were archaeologists.' Alex flapped a hand dismissively. I noted the use of the word _were_. Was it indicating that they were former careers, or her parents were formerly alive? 'We spent a fair few years hanging around in the Mediterranean. Keep talking.'

'Well — I'm one. A Greek demigod.'

To my shock, Alex shrugged. 'Not the weirdest thing I've ever heard. Is being a demigod to do with you mistaking my wolf for a "hellhound" and carrying around a sword?'

Alex was pretty sharp. I looked into her eyes and noticed two things. The first was that they were a warm brown. The second was that they held the cool, matter-of-fact sadness of somebody who had seen far too much. It was unsettling, to look at this teenage girl and see that she held the eyes of a battle-weary soldier.

I nodded. 'Yeah. Uh, sorry about that.'

'That's cool. Probably not with Soraya, though, but she'll get over herself.'

I looked down at the wolf. 'You said something about her having a mirage …?'

Alex's brow furrowed. 'Yeah, it's weird.' She chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek before explaining. 'Not all that long ago, I received this magical collar from … some people who'd helped me out of a tight spot. The collar's supposed to disguise her to anyone who doesn't know what a Shadow Wolf is, so I can take her around with me without people running off screaming about demonic dogs from hell. To anyone here, Soraya looks like a pup of some kind of husky mix.'

I stared at Soraya in disbelief, who came up to Alex's shoulders, easy. No collar in sight, but it was doing its job, because none of the other mortals strolling around Central Park had looked twice at the wolf. 'A pup?'

'She's young. I don't know, maybe three months?'

'Three months,' I repeated.

'Shadow Wolves mature like anything,' Alex replied.

 _Riiiight_. I had the feeling that this was all mixed up with the Mist, but I didn't indicate any of this. I wasn't in the mood to explain this to Alex. She scared me a little. And there was something else about her — sad, a little lonely, a little hurting. Like some demigods I knew that had struggled through gruelling months of traumatic war, and drifted off into the world, unsure of who they were and what to do with themselves.

'Well,' I said abruptly. 'It was nice meeting you, but I'm supposed to be meeting my math tutor. My girlfriend would kill me if I flunk my final.'

Alex's mouth quirked up at one corner. 'You'd better go do that.'

'That's, uh, the plan.' I backed away. 'See you around — Alex, right?'

'Yeah.' Alex said, slowly turning away from me, that wolf of hers skulking around her legs. 'You go do your thing. Study a bit of maths. Kick some ass. Make that girlfriend of yours proud. See you around, demigod.'

I watched Alex snap her fingers and softly murmur to Soraya. The wolf's tail began to thrash from side to side with excitement, trotting forward eagerly with her owner. And then — with another strange explosion of shadows and lightning, that bizarre mortal girl and her "Shadow Wolf" had been swallowed up by whatever it was contained inside those portals.

I shook my head and slowly turned away, trying to convince myself that that definitely wasn't the weirdest experience of my life. I'd tell Annabeth or Nico about it later. But for now — I had a math final to revise for.

 **;;**

 *** Reminder that Alex isn't her usual bubbly self is because she's still recovering from a whole load of PTSD and probably wouldn't trust Percy all that much.**

 **What did you guys think?**


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